


For You, I'd Cross Dimensions

by OktaviaMiki



Category: CLAMP - Works, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Deal with a Devil, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Eventual Sam/Natasha, F/M, M/M, Memory Loss, Multiple Crossovers, Mutual Pining, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Slow Burn, Tsubasa RESERVoir CHRoNiCLE AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-08-23 21:44:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8343961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OktaviaMiki/pseuds/OktaviaMiki
Summary: “That man, once again, has lost something precious: his memories… Will you travel to many worlds, returning those memories, even if he will never remember you?”Due to a latent curse placed on him by HYDRA, Bucky’s memories have been scattered to different dimensions, rendering him in a permanent sleep. Steve’s only hope of saving him is to journey across space and time with Natasha and Sam to find those memories. Though the price to travel will be steep.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An introduction to the woman known as the Space-Time Witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the amazing [Leelee](http://www.stevetopsbuckysbottom.tumblr.com)

In the country of Japan, there was a shop that granted wishes. Not an ordinary shop, in any sense of the word. Abnormal. Supernatural was a better term.

The proprietress herself, Yuuko Ichihara, now stood amongst the shelves and shelves of “treasures” she had acquired in her storied line of work. She gazed at two in particular, two small sleeping creatures covered by two glass domes, creatures she had a hand in making.

Yuuko sighed, frowned. Because she knew. There would be another time the creatures would be needed, one they were not originally destined for.

It was in a dimension known to her world, though in the form of comic books and films. That world had magic alongside science, with superheroes and monsters from legend clashing in battle, not to mention space exploration. The normal people in that dimension had enough to worry about with the daily threat of attack and apocalypse breathing down their necks. But that man had interfered and muddied up the timeline even further. It was much too early for a curve in the plot. The shop’s hired help still had yet to surface.

Yuuko knew things, many times exceeding what her own dimension held. And with it came the painful drawback that even with all her magic, all her insight, she could not act without first being asked to do so.

No matter. Her range to help was limited, but it was a range she was no stranger of finding loopholes around. She theorized this new situation was just a deviation from course of the true events. There was no coincidence in this world, after all. Someone else was picking up her story, but she would be the one writing the outcome.

Yuuko stared at the two creatures for several moments more before returning to her room. She gave them a sad smile. “Your time will come a little sooner than expected, my dears,” she said. “But we can still trust in _hitsuzen_.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuko is aware something is off because she knows she's in a fanfiction. Of course.
> 
> Edit at the end is by [me](http://pandasubaru.tumblr.com/post/152185430370/when-its-time-for-these-two-ill-have-to-make.com)


	2. Memories Returned and Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot kicks off. Steve tracks down Bucky in Bucharest with the intention of bringing him home, but nothing can ever go as planned, especially when HYDRA wants their Soldier back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for the slowest slow burn ever. Enjoy!
> 
> Beta'd by the amazing [Leelee](http://www.stevetopsbuckysbottom.tumblr.com)

Steve had found him.

It had taken almost two years, chasing every encrypted document that was salvaged from the wreckage of S.H.I.E.L.D., digging through the layers upon layers of historical files, searching daily online for any mention of a man with a mechanical arm.

But he had found him, in Romania of all places, before any authority figures had. And this time, he’d be bringing Bucky home.

Steve had assembled a team of Natasha, Sam, and Wanda to help locate him as covertly as they could manage. He was grateful for their aid, despite two of the three having a less than dazzling first impression of Bucky. “I’m doing this for your sake,” Sam told Steve. “Don’t get me wrong. If the opportunity arises, I will fucking punch him in the face.”

Steve factored that there would be some resistance from Bucky, at worst anger towards him. Natasha had said it plainly after agreeing to join the mission: “There’s a possibility that he doesn’t want to be found. There’s a possibility that he doesn’t want to see you.” Steve was aware of that, more than anyone. There was a slim to none chance of Bucky fully embracing Steve’s arrival, but it was a chance worth holding out for.

He knew that Bucky had remembered some things from his past back on the collapsing helicarrier, which things and how much he couldn’t tell. Just before he blacked out and fell into the water, Steve had seen recognition mixed with horror in Bucky’s expression. Then Bucky went to the trouble of saving him. “Prepare for the worst, hope for the best,” Steve repeated to himself like a mantra. “Hope for the best.”

The team had set a flight to Bucharest and were leaving within the hour. It was still early, only seven o’clock in the morning, but with the timezone difference they’d land midday. Natasha and Sam would be meeting at the jet from their apartments, and Steve would be picking up Wanda from the Avengers Facility.

He knocked on her bedroom door. “Wanda, you ready?”

“Yes, you can come in.”

Steve opened the door to Wanda sitting on her bed and tying a bootlace. A suitcase rested on the floor beside her. She stood and smoothed her long red coat. “Ready. I’ve already said my farewells to Vision and Stark.”

Steve, too, had stopped by Tony’s lab to say goodbye. Both creator and creation were fixated on whatever project they fancied that day. Tony had paused to lift his welding mask and pat Steve on the shoulder, grinning warmly. “Good luck. Say ‘hi’ to your boyfriend from me.” Steve, flustered by the comment, tried to retort, but Tony had already lowered his mask, sending Steve off with a cheeky wave.

“Thank you again for coming,” Steve said, picking up Wanda’s suitcase. “I really appreciate it.”

“Not at all. I’d like to help out if I can.” She gripped at the lightening bolt-shaped pendant she was wearing.

“That’s for your brother?” Steve asked.

Wanda nodded. “Vision made this for me.” She flicked a tiny lever on the side of the pendant, and a doll-sized hologram of Pietro Maximoff strang forth. He was radiant, happy to see Wanda. “It’s nice to see him every once in awhile. Makes the pain hurt a little less.”

“That’s great! I’m glad.” Steve was relieved that she was learning how to cope with death. He knew that pain well, and how hard it was to live through it day after day. He’d collected almost a century’s worth of loss and regret. All he wanted in the world was to make up for a fraction of what he let slip by, for all he couldn’t reach.

Wanda switched off the hologram. “Oh, Steve. There was something I wanted to ask you before we left. Just between us.” With the flick of her fingers, a red mist closed the door.

“Anything, shoot.”

“Were you and Barnes lovers?”

Steve dropped the suitcase with a loud clunk. “You overheard that from Tony, right?” he said, rubbing his temple.

“What? No. It was just at the briefing yesterday, the way you talked about him and the look in your eyes, it was clear he was special to you.”

Steve folded his arms, his eyes low. He thought back to the past. “We could have been,” he finally replied. “The thirties and forties weren’t as progressive about things as they are now. No, that still wouldn’t have mattered, if we just...”

He let out a huffy laugh. “I could never get around to telling him. The timing was never right. He had his girlfriends, then I fell for Peggy. I wasn’t so oblivious, I saw signs for years that he wanted us to be... more than friends. I just didn’t have the courage to make a move.”

“You’re making a move now, by going after him,” Wanda said. She put a hand on his arm. “When he’s back, you’ll have all the time you need to talk.”

For the first time in a long time, Steve genuinely smiled. “Thanks.”

* * *

Sam adjusted his glasses. He leaned against the rooftop terrace’s guardrail overlooking Bucharest. He watched as the pin prints representing people scurried below. “Still nothing, Cap. No stray cats on this side of town, at least.”

“Same here,” Natasha agreed through the communication link. She was strolling through a marketplace over five kilometers away from him, swirling cream into her coffee, sunglasses shading her eyes.

The four team members, all in civilian garb, had split up in different directions across the city, their central point being Bucky’s latest apartment. Steve didn’t want to surprise him right outside his building. It was better to get a bead on him in the open first when Bucky would be more relaxed. Hopefully.

Wanda leaned against a clothing store window. She pulled down her own sunglasses from the top of her head. “No cats here either,” she said.

“If your stray was dodging the radar for years, you’d think he wouldn’t go exploring too often,” Natasha added. “We should be moving in closer. I know you don’t want to scare him off, Steve, but there’s only so much you can do from afar.”

Steve at the moment was mixed in the hustle of a packed sidewalk. “Valid point,” he said. “Let’s hold our positions for a bit longer, and then—”

Steve had only glanced across the road for maybe half a second through the mass of moving people. If he hadn’t, he would have surely missed the outline of Bucky’s back, his gloved hands in spring, his ponytail poking out from a baseball cap.

Not HYDRA’s weapon, not the Winter Soldier. His Bucky.

Steve caught himself staring, and jolted himself out of his daze. Cautiously, he wadded through the crowd.

It wasn’t long before Bucky noticed he was being singled out. He stopped, turned his head, saw Steve. His face lost its color. He mouthed something Steve couldn’t catch through the throng. Then he was gone.

Steve dived through the mob, into the street. He nearly evaded a truck as he bounded on to the opposite sidewalk. “The stray’s been found,” he said. “He’ll head towards the Basarab Overpass on the north side to get out of the city. Cut him off there. Stick to our plan.”

“Copy that.” Sam unfolded his wings, and leapt off the terrace. “I can be there in one minute.”

Natasha thrust her coffee into a teenager’s hand, then snatched the motorbike he was standing beside. “Borrowing, thanks.” She kicked it to life and was roaring off before the stunned teen could even close his mouth. “I’ll be there in two.”

Wanda snapped to action as well, throwing off her sunglasses. Her eyes glowed scarlet as she rose from the street above the city. “Steve, I see you both. He’s not too far ahead. He’ll make the overpass soon.”

“Circle around with Sam. I’ll join you and Natasha at the meeting point.”

“Steve? You know how I can manipulate people’s thoughts?”

“I’ve experienced that firsthand.”

“Maybe I could calm him down first? Let him see a happy memory with you in the past or something?”

A tempting thought, but... “No. He’s had enough done to his mind. We’re taking that off the table.”

“Suit yourself.”

Bucky meanwhile had already scaled the bridge connecting the Basarab. He was almost out. Now if he could just get to the tram line...

“Hey, dude.”

Bucky groaned.

Sam was waiting behind him, arms crossed, wings folded. “The Captain needs a few words with you.”

“And if I decline?”

“Don’t think I gave you an alternative.”

Bucky’s answer came in the form of a metal fist, which Sam barely dodged. More punches were exchanged between them, blocked.

Sam activated his wings, thrusting back several yards to avoid a kick to the head.

Seeing the opportunity, Bucky poised to make a run for it. He spun around, took a step forward, but all at once found himself unable to move. He looked at his legs, and to his astonishment saw red mist encircling his lower body.

A grinning Wanda revealed herself from behind a pillar, hands raised and fingers twitching. “Hello, don’t believe we’ve met,” she said. “Like we practiced, Sam?”

Sam smirked. “Ready when you are, kid.”

Wanda lifted her arms lifting Bucky to the sky, helpless to escape.

Sam shot into the air, slightly higher than Bucky’s position.

It was then Bucky realized what they were about to do. “You’ve gotta be kidding m—”

With the abrupt wave of Wanda’s hands, Bucky was sent flying. “Catch.”

It was close, very close, and Sam took note that they probably should have practiced the maneuver more. But he managed to secure a grip on Bucky’s jacket before they plummeted headfirst into the concrete, and soared back into Bucharest.

Bucky squirmed at Sam’s grasp. He knew he’d survive a fall from this height and speed, he’d been through much worse, he just couldn’t seem to shake himself loose. “Son of a bitch.”

“That’s Mister Son-of-a-Bitch to you,” Sam said. “Jesus, you’re heavy.”

“Metal arm might have something to do with it.”

Sam came to a stop, landing on a rooftop. He tossed Bucky off and rolling onto solid ground.

Bucky was ready to stand, about to fling himself from the roof, when he heard the familiar click of a Glock. A shot rang out inches from his ear, and forced him to flatten against a wall.

Natasha emerged and stood next to Sam. She was holding a pistol in each hand. “Don’t move.”

Bucky didn’t.

“Seems you’re a lot more persuasive than me,” Sam said. “Glad you could join us.”

“My pleasure.” She fired into the wall, just missing Bucky’s stomach, then fired again, just missing Bucky’s left shoulder. “Just a little something to jog your memory,” she said.

Bucky sat up. “Guess an apology now wouldn’t do much good?”

“Not really.”

“Nat, stop.”

Bucky shuddered at the voice.

Natasha lowered her pistols.

Steve, with Wanda in tow, joined the group. He knelt, meeting Bucky face to face. He took a moment to compose himself, put his personal feelings in check. “I’m sorry it came to this. I know you’re nervous, you have every right to be.” He paused. “Do you know who I am?”

Bucky closed his eyes. “You’re Steve Rogers, Captain America. Everyone knows you.”

Steve’s heart leapt. “That’s not it though, is it? I was more than Captain America to you.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been hiding for so long, I know Buck, but you don’t have to anymore. We can protect you—”

“I’ve lost track of how many Most Wanted lists I’m on, in how many countries,” Bucky snapped. “You think you can protect me?”

“But that wasn’t you. It was never you.” Steve started to reach toward him, to put a hand on his shoulder to console him, but suppressed the urge. “Please. If you just came back to the states with us—”

“No.” Bucky stood, fists shaking. “I’m not... I won’t... risk your reputation. I’ve survived on my own so far. Don’t involve yourself with me.”

“Bucky.”

“Just give up on me, Steve.” Bucky proceeded passed the team members across to the building’s roof access doorway. He slammed it shut behind him.

“Cap?” Sam asked. “Should we?”

Steve, still kneeling, hung his head. “Let him leave.”

* * *

The Russian director annoyedly drummed his fingers on the plane’s window. It was a total humiliation, a disgrace to the entire movement, that day two years ago when HYDRA was exposed by those “superheroes”. Decades upon decades of work, all released to the public. Shameful.

And to top it off, their _Soldat_ was still on the loose. That would be corrected shortly.

“<How long?>” he spat to the pilot.

“<We will arrive by tomorrow morning, sir.>”

“<And The Red Book?>”

“<Unfortunately, not as quickly. There were some... ‘complications’ during its transfer. Some of our agents not being as true, some blood needing to be spilled. The Book will be coming from an alternate channel, the following evening.>”

The director sighed. Just more bad news.

Only three dozen or so skillful operatives could make the tight schedule for the sweep in Bucharest. If they acted in their peak form, as a unit, they would only have a forty-two percent chance of overtaking the Soldier.

Still, in the worst of worst case scenarios, at least they had their exit strategy.

On the seat next to the director was a small safe. He punched in a twenty digit password, then scanned his fingerprint on the sensor. The safe door swung open, revealing a white notebook.

The director picked it up. He thumbed over its cover that depicted a pair of wings. “<Soon, my Soldier,>” he muttered with a snicker. “<Soon, you will return to us. Altogether, or in pieces.>”

* * *

After Bucky’s rejection, the team retreated back to their hotel rooms. Steve was quiet the rest of the afternoon, and despite all his reassurances and “I’m fine”s, the rest of the group knew different.

As night began to fall, Natasha found him sitting on a couch and staring listlessly out a window, fingers steepled.

She took a seat next to him. “C’mon, we’re all going pub crawling,” she said cheerfully, smacking him on the back. “Take your mind off things. Don’t make me drag you.”

“Okay, okay.” Steve chuckled. “Go on without me. I’ll meet up with you later.”

“You better.” Natasha wagged a teasing finger at him. “I will not let you spend the night all by your lonesome, Rogers. I will drag you down there.”

“I believe you.”

She got up to leave, and as her hand twisted the doorknob, Steve called, “Thank you, Nat. Really.”

Natasha smiled, and pointed at him. “Don’t forget.”

Steve nodded. “I won’t.”

He’d make sure to join his friends. He just had to be certain of something first.

* * *

Bucky’s pen hovered over the lined paper. He tapped the page, creating a flurry of little black dots. He stared at the marks, twirled the pen, and leaned back on his mattress, where he was sitting cross-legged.

It was a ritual for him: before he’d go to bed, he’d take a record of his day and of anything that sparked his memory (a baseball game on tv, a portrait in an art gallery, an army badge in an antique store).

He just couldn’t bring himself to write. Plenty had happened that day. He’d seen a face he never thought he’d see again in person.

Steve.

Just the thought of him being so close was making Bucky’s chest tighten. He’d managed to control his emotions at the time, but now he could already feel his face getting hot.

It wasn’t fair. Bucky kept himself isolated for a reason. And Steve just had to waltz right up, telling him he wanted him back in the US. As if Bucky hadn’t attempted to kill him multiple times. As if Bucky wasn’t an internationally known war criminal. As if nothing had ever happened between them.

Bucky closed his journal, ran a hand through his hair. What was he supposed to say to Steve? How should’ve he reacted? Bucky couldn’t lie to himself that a small part of him was actually, god forbid, happy with Steve’s visit, and that happiness was laced with so many years of regret.

If he only had the stones to tell Steve those three stupid words back in 1934. Hell, even back in 1943. If only he hadn’t covered up his feelings. Maybe history would have shown a different outcome, something kinder. If he had just pulled Steve aside one day, told him outright that he...

The knock on his door cut through the silence, and sent Bucky jumping up in panic mode. None of his neighbors wanted anything to do with him, not even the landlord was congenial enough to make rounds (the rent Bucky paid with dropped off cash). Did the CIA actually get a trace on him? Who else would think to stop by?

“Buck, it’s me.”

Shit.

Bucky considered the option of retrieving his notebooks under the floor and fleeing from the window. It sounded pretty damn good. But that wasn’t what he did.

Maybe it was sentimentally, maybe it was his warped nostalgic judgement. In any case, instead of running, he started toward the door.

Bucky’s stomach felt good and twisted by the time he unlocked it. And there Steve was, Mr. America.

“Hey,” Steve said casually. “Can we talk? Just you and me, I promise. No bugs. And after that I’ll leave you alone.” At his last sentence Bucky caught a crack in the Steve Rogers armor, a slight hitch of hesitance to say the words.

Bucky broke Steve’s gaze. He sighed. He couldn’t believe what he was about to say.

“All right.” He stepped back to let Steve inside, then rebolted the door.

“Thank you.”

The two of them fidgeted across from each other, not saying anything for endless minutes. Both knew where the conversation would be going, yet neither of them wanted to begin. The air itself was suffocating from just how awkward they each felt.

“Pretty nice place,” Steve commented.

Bucky had to laugh at that. “It’s a hole in the wall, but nobody asks questions here,” he said. “It’s served me well.”

“Have you moved around much?”

“This is the sixth place in two years. I’m sure paranoia played some part in it a few of those times.” Bucky tried to phrase it as a joke, but by Steve’s frown he knew he wasn’t buying it.

“You wouldn’t have to keep changing locations if you came with us.”

And there it was, the conversation.

“Steve, I can’t do that.”

“Tell me why.”

“Because... the person you’re trying to save doesn’t exist anymore. Your Bucky is dead. He’s not coming back.”

Steve moved closer. “Even then, I’d still try to convince you.”

Bucky stood his ground, glaring him down. “You’ve seen some of my records, right? A taste of how many people I’ve killed? How much damage I’ve caused? The way I am now, I’m not worth that kind of a burden to anyone.”

“Of course you’re worth it,” Steve fired back. “Those things you did as the Winter Soldier, you didn’t have a say in them.”

“Doesn’t excuse what I did.” Bucky shook his head. “I... don’t deserve that kindness.”

Steve couldn’t hold back anymore. He extended a hand toward Bucky, then waited to see if he would flinch. When Bucky didn’t, Steve softly cupped his cheek. “The pain you feel, your suffering, I can never understand even a millionth of it. No one can. The least I can do is make sure you feel safe now. If someone ever comes and blames you for the past, I’ll tell them they’re wrong.”

Bucky didn’t reply. He leaned into Steve’s touch, the gap between them almost gone. How long had it been since he felt this way, comforted, warm? “You’ve... suffered, too. From the war.”

Steve’s eyes widened at Bucky’s remark. Then he smiled and said, “I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve got baggage. But that’s just it. You don’t have to fight your demons alone anymore. We can do it together. You can rely on me, and maybe, sometimes, I’d like to rely on you.”

Bucky placed his flesh and blood hand over Steve’s. “Why are you doing this for me?” he asked.

“I...” Steve took a breath and let it out. He made sure Bucky was looking him in the eye. “Bucky, I love you.”

Bucky stared, processing what Steve had said. He couldn’t find a trace of deception in his words or his firm expression.

“Sorry, that was really overdue. I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time. So, I...”

It was hard to tell who moved first, it happened so fast. Their lips crashed together in a kiss built up over seven decades. Steve hugged Bucky close as he gained access to the inside of his mouth, and Bucky held on just as tight. They clung to each other almost desperately in pent up wanting, in need.

This wasn’t just a fantasy anymore. All those “what if”s, those “maybe”s, now they both knew. Steve loved him, really loved him. That pipe dream of Bucky’s was real. Any creeping thought of resistance was ignored, pushed aside for this moment of indulgence. And how fantastic that indulgence was. For years, Bucky could only imagine what Steve might taste like. He wouldn’t have predicted just how sweet, how perfect.

Bucky’s heart was thudding so loud he was sure Steve could hear it, probably feel it too. At any other time, he’d be embarrassed of how easily he’d been swayed. If this was what giving in looked like, so be it. He couldn’t ignore that craving any further, couldn’t deny it.

It was when Steve’s fingers brushed under the lining of his shirt that he gasped, and slammed right back to reality. He broke their kiss, and shoved Steve away (if it had been anyone else, they would have crashed through a wall).

Steve at once side-stepped back, and held up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, that was out of line.”

Bucky covered his mouth, almost doubled over. He was panting hard. “No, I’m...” He couldn’t finish.

“Do you want me to leave?” Steve edged toward the door.

“No. Stop.”

Steve waited as Bucky began to calm down and his breathing returned to normal.

“About going back with you... to the states,” Bucky muttered at last, “give me the night, okay? To decide.”

Steve could have hugged him, he was so happy. “Of course,” he said. “Do you want to meet somewhere tomorrow?”

“There’s an outdoor marketplace I go to often, couple blocks from here. If I... agree, I’ll meet you.”

“Nine in the morning good?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll be there.” Steve smiled. “Have a good night.”

“You, too.”

As soon as Bucky heard Steve’s footsteps going around the hall to the staircase, he let himself collapse to the floor. He curled his legs to his chest, tucked his head down.

“Don’t do this to me, Steve. You’re going to make me hurt you again.”

* * *

The vendors were beginning to throw him odd glances, and Steve couldn’t blame them. For the past half hour he’d been wandering back and forth from the lines of shops, not buying anything. Being in uniform probably didn’t help.

Steve knew he’d be pacing restlessly in his hotel room otherwise. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, though none of his fellow Avengers had either. “How’s the hangover, Sam?”

Sam zoomed in Redwing’s streetview tracker from a nearby rooftop. “After four Tylenols and two pots of coffee, gone, thank god,” he said, stretching his arms. “Last time I try to outdrink Nat.”

“Oh, please. You have no idea how easy I was taking it,” Natasha, wearing her stealth suit, said proudly. She had stopped to browse through a display of wood carved knickknacks. “I had a formidable partner, too. You hold your liquor well, Wanda.”

Wanda, at a vendor selling musical instruments down a ways from her, replied, “A high compliment, thank you, but you exaggerate. You carried me back to the hotel, if I remember correctly.”

“You weren’t the only one who needed help. I believe a certain someone needed assistance walking after scaling a twelve story building. What were you singing there, Sam? Nelly Furtado?”

“Hey! I’ll have you know, I was my fraternity’s premier wall climber.”

“Putting that aside,” Steve cut in sternly, “I’m still not too comfortable with letting you drink in the first place, Wanda.”

“Relax. I’ve had legal practice in Sokovia,” Wanda reassured him. “Besides, the drinking age in Romania is sixteen.”

“It’s eighteen, actually.”

“Oh. Oops.”

The night’s trouble had begun after Steve left Bucky’s apartment. He texted Sam, who gave him the address the group were currently at. The atmosphere of the pub was wild and bright, so packed with people that they spilled onto the sidewalks, conversing happily in the shadows of string lights.

Sam, at the counter, spotted Steve and waved him over through the swarm. “How’d it go?” he asked.

Steve thought back to Bucky’s proposal. He smiled. “It... went well.”

Sam burst into a grin. “Steve Rogers got some!” He turned to the rest of the pub patrons. “Did you hear that, folks? Captain America got laid!”

“That’s not what happened!” Steve tried to intervene.

Natasha, ignoring him, shouted, “Drinks on him!”

A half-empty glass of beer, shrouded in red mist, floated over and tipped itself onto Steve’s head. The rest of the pub erupted into cheers.

“You have to admit though, Cap. It was fun, wasn’t it?” Sam said. He adjusted Redwing to swivel around toward Steve.

Steve cocked his head at the drone’s camera and laughed. “It was.”

“Five minutes to nine, big boy,” Natasha noted. “You ready for this? Whatever happens?” Concern colored her tone.

“Yes,” Steve answered. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. That was all he could do now.

Nine o’clock came and went. Bucky was nowhere along the marketplace. Five minutes turned to thirty, which turned to an hour and a half, turned to two hours. Not a trace for miles, according to Redwing.

“Steve?” Natasha asked, watching him from the corner of her eye. “What are you thinking now?”

Steve loosened his tightened fists. He swallowed, wetting a dry throat.

At the start, with each passing moment, Steve had assured himself that Bucky would show eventually, that he was just mulling things over. But there was only so much time to battle with second thoughts before the mind was made up. And Bucky had clearly made his choice.

Steve couldn’t make his friends wait anymore. “All right. Let’s head back t—”

The shock and ear-splitting sound took most people off their feet. An explosion, a bomb, a big one, and too close for comfort from the marketplace. Black smoke started to billow into the sky, dirt and flecks of debris poured into the street. People scattered, screaming.

Steve quickly spotted Natasha and Wanda already running toward him. “You’re both okay?”

“We’re fine,” Natasha said. “Did you see Sam?”

Steve turned to the rooftop where Sam was sitting, only to his alarm find it empty. “Sam! Where are you? Do you copy?”

“I’m just peachy.” Sam glided over, and landed next to the other three. “Vibrations nearly made me take a tumble.”

“Did you manage to get a read on the bomb?” Natasha asked him.

“It was thrown from a commercial jet. The detonation site’s only down a few streets. An apartment complex, on an upper floor.” He exchanged a look with Steve. “You don’t think it’s...”

“Bucky.”

Steve stared at his silent team, waiting for their Captain to respond. He inhaled, exhaled. Then he reached behind him, taking his shield in hand.

“Our mission has always been to save lives, no matter what transpires,” Steve said. “That doesn’t change. Move out.”

They dodged around panicked townsfolk, through the thick clouds of dust, to get to the base of the explosion. The building was in flames, just on the verge of total collapse, and in danger of toppling the surrounding complexes. Fire and rescue had yet to arrive at the scene.

“We need to evacuate every civilian within a ten kilometer radius,” Steve ordered. “Nat, you and I will search for any stragglers on the ground. Wanda and Sam will take a sweep around the building to see if anyone might be trapped. Sam? Something wrong?”

Sam was gazing off down the smoke clogged streets, then at Redwing’s control panel. “Hold that thought, Cap,” he said. “We got company. A lot of company.”

No sooner had he said it, a flurry of bullets come pelting from all directions. Steve held out his shield, covering him and Natasha. Sam sheltered Wanda with his wings as she conjured a cloudy barrier in front of them.

“How many is a lot?” Steve shouted over the clanging vibranium.

“There’s at least thirty, maybe thirty-five, all around us, all armed,” Sam yelled back. “Black military gear. Russian, maybe?”

“HYDRA,” Natasha concluded, readying her guns. “If they were behind the bombing, then they must have come for Barnes.”

“Thanks a ton, Bucky,” Sam grumbled.

“When I give the signal, everyone split up, take as many as you can,” Steve instructed. “Wait for it...”

The amount of bullets began to lessen, taper off, then halted entirely.

“Now!”

Natasha ducked underneath Steve’s shield and darted forward into the dust, guns firing. Steve hurled his shield to the left and followed its trajectory. Sam dove to the right side, Redwing hovering close behind, his machine pistols unholstered. Not having to veil herself any longer, Wanda gathered her scarlet cloud into a twisted ball of energy, and aimed at the beam behind her.

Steve’s shield returned to him just in time to cover him from more bullets. A group of five agents advanced toward him, carrying submachine guns, dressed in black kevlar as Sam had said. And as their fight ensued, Steve could tell they weren’t average minions. Their movements were coordinated, fast, so synced they could have been a hive mind (though knowing HYDRA, Steve wouldn’t put it past them). Steve’s skill was the only thing keeping him alive.

With patience, he succeeded in knocking them out cold. He brushed off his shield, about to go see how the other Avengers were making do, when a sharp metallic strike resonated behind his head. Steve turned and for a moment thought he might be hallucinating.

It was Bucky, metal arm outstretched and blocking Steve, the smashed bullet at his feet.

The sniper, crouched on a balcony, poised to shoot again. Steve threw his shield which rammed into the side of the agent’s neck before he could pull the trigger.

“Bucky?” Steve caught his shield as it came back.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said. “This whole mess, it’s my fault. I couldn’t just leave you to deal with it by yourselves.”

“Bucky.”

“And... I know it took me long enough to decide, but I was going to the marketplace. If anything, I wanted to tell you something...”

“You’re late,” Sam declared as he perched on the sniper’s balcony. He wrenched the gun out of the HYDRA agent’s hands. “There’s still a bunch of mooks left.” He flew back into the center the fray, dropping the gun to Natasha below.

“Help would be appreciated,” she said.

Steve gripped Bucky’s shoulder, and smiled. “Let’s finish this first, together. Then you can tell me anything you want.”

Bucky gave him a small smile in return. “Sure.”  
-  
The dust and smoke had dispersed completely by the time the last agent was taken out with a lamppost, courtesy of Natasha (Sam gave her a high-five, “Nice.”). The Avengers stood spread out amongst the rubble, all unharmed to Steve’s relief.

“We need to alert the Romanian Police,” Steve said, snapping his shield in place on his back. “Sam, are you picking up any other hostiles?”

“I wouldn’t get too comfy,” Sam replied, checking Redwing’s tracker. “Don’t think we’re alone just yet.”

“Got a bad feeling, too?” Wanda asked.

“Something like that.”

“Everyone stay on guard, then,” Steve said. He unbuckled his helmet to shake the dirt from his hair.

“Steve.” Bucky strode over to him.

Steve met him halfway. “Hey, Buck. You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. More than that.” Bucky touched Steve’s face, just as Steve had done the previous night. “I’m sorry again, for making you wait.”

“You’re here now.”

“For years, I’ve wanted to...” Bucky paused, took a deep breath. “Always, always, I’ve needed to say this. Steve, I—”

“ _Krylya letayte, Soldat._ ”

The voice, barely a whisper, came from a speaker, somewhere high. Steve skimmed the rows of windows from the surrounding buildings. “What was that...”

He didn’t have long to ponder when he looked back to Bucky. Bucky’s arms had dropped to his sides, his body stiff. His eyes were half-lidded and blank, as if taken over by a trance.

Steve shook him gently. “Bucky? Bucky, can you hear me?”

Bucky didn’t respond.

“What’s up with him?” Sam called to Steve. He commanded Redwing to scan for the hidden agent. “Was that some kind of code?”

“That was Russian,” Natasha said. “‘Wings fly, Soldier’?”

“Fly,” Steve repeated. “Bucky, c’mon. I’m right here. You have to—” Steve stared open-mouthed.

A white light had enveloped Bucky. It spread behind him, arranging into two outstretched shapes.

Just like wings, Steve thought. “Bucky, no!” He pulled Bucky to him in a tight embrace.

As quickly as the light had come, with a deafening crack, it shattered. Steve watched as the splintered pieces, thousands of them, formed into spheres and shot off in aimless directions into the sky.

Sam at once activated his wings, blocking Natasha and Wanda from the chaos. “What’s with the lightshow? The hell is going on?”

Wanda put up her own barrier over them. She winced as a beam collided directly into her path. “Is this... magic?”

When the lights had gone, Bucky closed his eyes. He slumped into Steve’s arms.

“Bucky!” Steve supported him as he lowered them to the ground. Bucky was limp, still not responding to Steve’s voice or contact.

Steve touched Bucky’s cheek and was terrified at just how cold he felt. Trying to keep himself calm, Steve hovered a hand over Bucky’s nose. It was shallow, but Bucky was still breathing. “Thank god.”

“Hey, got a read on the speaker!” Sam called, as he flew off around the street corner.

Natasha and Wanda in the meantime both gathered near Steve. “I’ve never seen something like this,” Natasha said. “That light... And he just collapsed right after?”

“Yeah, I’m... just as confused as you are,” Steve replied.

“Maybe I could get some insight,” Wanda offered. She glanced to Bucky, then back to Steve. “May I?”

Steve nodded.

Wanda knelt beside him, and raised her hand, her eyes tinted scarlet. Her summoned mist followed her movement and passed through Bucky’s head.

She furrowed her brow. “Steve,” she said softly, “you said his memories were wiped in the past, but… I don’t see anything. There’s nothing there.”

“That can’t...” Steve trailed off. He felt Bucky’s cheek again. Bucky was even colder than before. “That can’t be.”

“Sam’s back,” Natasha observed as he came into view, and landed beside the group. “Any news?”

“The guy was reading from this over a twenty-dollar microphone.” Sam held up a small white notebook. “There’s a bunch of notes and codes in here. And I was going to shake him for some clarification, but I guess he was expecting to get caught. Bit on a cyanide capsule the moment I came by the window. Sorry, Steve.”

Steve tried to think of something to do, something to say, anything. He was supposed to be the Captain, the leader with all the solutions, but his mind was coming up empty. Cradling Bucky’s lifeless body, looking helplessly into his still expression. The scene was ripped right out of his nightmares. Steve was out of answers. “Damn it.” He buried his face in Bucky’s hair. “Damn it. ”

Natasha squeezed his shoulder. “Steve. I’m sorry.”

Wanda bit her lip. “I... don’t know if this will help, but—”

“His life is not yet lost.”

It was another unfamiliar voice, and, by the sound of it, was right in front of them. The team at once turned their attention ahead.

Reflected in the wide glass window of a deserted thrift store was a woman. Her long hair was as black as her skin was pale. She was dressed in an elaborate costume, a black dress that featured the symbol of an eye.

Sam warily stepped in front of Steve. “Who are you?”

“You may call me Yuuko,” she said. She noticed the tension beginning to swirl among the Avengers. “Don’t fret, I’m not your enemy,” she assured them.

Natasha joined next to Sam, with Steve in between them. “How... why are you here?”

“I only make house calls if the situation is serious enough. And this situation is indeed grave.” Yuuko motioned to Bucky. “That man, once again, has lost something precious: his memories.”

“Back when all the lights flew apart, you mean?” Steve exclaimed. “Those were his memories?”

“Yes. More accurately, they were pieces of his soul. They have been scattered to many different worlds.”

“Different... worlds?” Wanda questioned, standing up.

“Yours is not the only dimension. Mine, for example,” Yuuko said. “The worlds of fiction and fairy tale, technology and magic. What you may read as fantasy in one world is reality in another.”

“And what will happen,” Steve asked, “if Bucky... doesn’t get his memories back?”

“A body without a soul cannot function. If he remains in this state for too long, he will die.”

Steve gripped Bucky tighter. “Is there anything you could do?” He looked back at Yuuko, steel in his eyes. “Do you have a way to save him?”

She answered, “It has a price.”


	3. The Witch’s Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The deal is struck. The three travelers each offer a valuable price to afford their journey.

“It has a price.”

Steve was hanging on Yuuko’s every word. The sudden rain shower barely registered to him.

“But first, may I have you name please?” she asked.

“I’m Steve, Steve Rogers. And this is Bucky,” he responded automatically. “What kind of price?”

“One that is equal to your wish. And I will say it now, it will be costly.”

“Whatever it is, I’ll pay it,” Steve said. “Bucky’s not dying. Not if I can help it.”

Both Natasha and Sam whirled around to face him, both seething.

“Are you out of your fucking mind, Steve?”

“Do you hear yourself talking? Can you actually think for more than two seconds before you agree to something insane? We don’t know if she can be trusted.” Sam glared at Yuuko. “Mind telling us why you’d show up here?”

“My profession is granting wishes, whatever they are. My clients come to me with a desire of theirs, and for an equal payment I fulfill that desire,” Yuuko said matter-of-factly. “Sometimes it involves dimension travel.”

“Wishes... You wouldn’t be...” Natasha’s eyes slowly widened. “You’re the Space-Time Witch, aren’t you?”

By Yuuko’s poker face, it was difficult to discern whether the name pleased her or not. “I’ve been called that before.”

“Nat, do you know her?” Steve asked.

“No, but... At S.H.I.E.L.D., there was talk of someone that could travel through space and time at whim, a Japanese woman that granted wishes. Real shadowy stuff, even beyond my clearance.”

“So, it’s true then,” Steve said. “What’s the payment?”

“It would require something of substantial value to you,” Yuuko told him. “A soul, for instance.”

“My soul...”

“Hold it!” Sam shouted. He tossed the white notebook under the thrift store window. “You know what’s really going on here, don’t you? I think you owe us an explanation before people start selling their souls.” He looked to the rest of the team.

“Yes,” Steve agreed. “I’m with Sam.”

“I concur,” Natasha said.

Yuuko nodded. “Very well... In a separate dimension from here, there is a certain sorcerer that has a wish of his own. To attain the power to realize that wish, he has infiltrated other worlds and corrupted them to his will. One of those worlds was your own, in the year 1945. I believe you would be knowledgeable of the terrorist group HYDRA?”

“We’re familiar with them,” Natasha replied with a scowl.

Yuuko continued on, “He fed them the practices of magic and the ways of controlling others. But more importantly for him, he taught them how to remove a soul.” She indicated the unconscious Bucky. “HYDRA incorporated that method into keeping their new line of soldiers in check. A powerful curse used as a last resort, activated with code words. If their property ever fell into enemy hands, the spell would erase the subject’s mind and information.”

“All of this,” Steve hugged Bucky closer to him, “was it part of that sorcerer’s plan, too?”

“I’m sure he had some awareness that this would be the result,” Yuuko stated. “He’s ruthless. He does not care who gets hurt along the way of achieving his goals. Your friend’s fate is not a concern to him. I doubt he would give this situation a second thought.”

“And where is he now?” Steve couldn’t hide the anger in his tone.

Yuuko sighed. “The cost to send you there would be immense, far too much for anyone. Even I am not certain of his location. What should be addressed is the matter at hand.”

She peered throughout the group. “None of you have the means to travel dimensions yourselves, and in order to find your comrade’s memories, you must have a method to journey many worlds.”

She regarded Steve. “The price you pay will cover that, and that alone. Finding those memories will be a task left for you to undertake. Will you still agree to this?”

Without hesitation, Steve said, “Of course.”

“That’s a good answer.” Yuuko paused. “However. Despite your resolve, even if you were to surrender your most cherished possession, it wouldn’t be enough.”

Steve stared back at her. Numbness began to spread through his body. “... That’s it? It’s hopeless.”

“There is a solution to this. If two others also contribute to the cost, and join in the journey, the payment would be equitable.”

“I could never ask—”

Natasha folded her arms. “I’ll go.”

“And I’d make two,” Sam added.

“Hey, wait!” Steve had to resist standing up to confront them. “I can’t let you do this for me.”

“Steve. Stop talking.” Natasha glowered. “You can make your own decisions, and I’ve let you, but mine are my own. I came here in the first place because I wanted to, and I’m agreeing to this because I want to.”

Her expression softened into smile. “You’ll need us. Right, Sam?”

“Couldn’t have put it better,” Sam said. “I’m not letting you just go off on a world hopping spree by yourself. Face it Cap, it’s out of your hands now.”

“I...” Steve nodded. “Sam, Nat, thank you. Thank you so much. But, what about...”

“Oh, shit.”

“Wanda.”

The group turned to her. Wanda had mostly kept quiet until then, observing from the background as the scene played out. Her right hand was balled into a fist, her left hand enclosed around it protectively. She gazed at her mentors, then down at her fist.

She let out a breath. “Someone should stay behind, do damage control, tell the rest of the Avengers.” She managed a grin. “It’s okay, I can get home by myself.”

“You’re sure, kid?” Sam asked.

“I’m certain.”

“Your wishes have been settled then, for all three of you,” Yuuko announced. She looked to Steve. “You wish to cross dimensions to recover this man’s memories.” She glanced from Sam to Natasha. “You both wish to aid in his plight.”

The hint of a smile crossed her lips. “Your bond is strong. So, if each of you pays with the thing you value the most, all of you will be able to travel together.”

Yuuko first focused on Natasha. “Would you tell me your name?”

“... Natasha Romanoff,” she answered stiffly.

“Your price will be your necklace.”

Natasha took a moment to react. She reached behind her, and began to unclasp the necklace she was wearing, a thin golden chain with a red bead.

“Not that one,” Yuuko corrected. “The one in your pocket.”

Again, Natasha was slow to respond. She lowered her arms, then opened a compartment on her belt. Delicately, she pulled out another necklace. This one had a linked silver chain, and at the end a tiny arrow charm.

Steve had seen her wear it many times. “Nat...”

“What did I say, Steve?” Natasha held the piece of jewelry for a few seconds more, touched the engraving on the charm. She then closed it in her fist, and pitched it toward Yuuko’s face.

The necklace passed through the store window as if the barrier didn’t exist. Yuuko held up her hand and caught it without blinking, the chain halting in mid-air on wisps of smoke. At that time Steve noticed that she was flanked by two young girls, the one on the left with blue twintails, the one on the right with a pink bob and buns. Yuuko gestured the necklace over to the twintail girl.

Yuuko next concentrated on Sam. “And your name, please?”

“Sam Wilson. What’ll it cost me?”

“Your price will be your dog tags.”

Sam grimaced. He extended a wing. “You wouldn’t rather have these? They’re really important to me.”

“I’m afraid not,” Yuuko said. “It must be the item you treasure most.”

The wing retracted into Sam’s jetpack. He sighed, and dug into a pouch on his side. The dog tags he took out had clearly seen some action, the ball chain snapped in half and the metal of the tags blackened around the edges.

Sam could almost sense that Steve would try to protest. “Don’t say a fucking word. This is my decision, not yours.”

Steve closed his mouth, and lowered his eyes.

Unwilling to throw them, Sam was about to walk to the window when the same wisps of smoke Yuuko had summoned began to gather to him. The clouds scooped the tags out of Sam’s hand, and presented them to Yuuko, who gave them to the girl with buns to hold.

“And lastly,” Yuuko studied Steve, “your price. When you agree to relinquish it, you will be able to travel dimensions, and find what you seek.”

“All right.”

“Have you noticed that I’ve been vague as to what the cost is? And you are still willing to pay it, whatever it turns out to be?”

“That’s fine.”

“Determined, aren’t you?” Yuuko opened her arms. “Come here, little ones.”

At her command, two creatures leapt over to her. Both were small, slightly larger than an apple, with long rabbit-like ears and feet. Their only difference was in their coloring, one was black, the other white.

“They are named Mokona Modoki.” Yuuko held the white one in her outstretched palm. “Mokona will be the one leading you all through the worlds. How many worlds and how long it will take to fulfill your journey is up to the future. But what can be certain, without question, is that there is no such thing as coincidence: there is only _hitsuzen_. Inevitability.

“Steve Rogers, the price you pay will be your relationship.”

Steve knitted his brows. “My... what?”

“Your most precious thing is not a tangible item, but rather your connection with that man,” Yuuko said. “What is he to you?”

“Bucky’s... He’s a childhood friend, a brother in arms, and...” Steve wiped a stray hair from Bucky’s face. “Someone very special to me.”

“If you accept the terms of this deal, then your relationship with him will be erased from his mind, as if it never happened. You may retrieve all the fragments of his memory, but any part having to do with you will be removed. This is a binding agreement, they will never be brought back. Will you still travel to many worlds, returning those memories, even if he will never remember you?”

“I’ll go,” Steve replied, unflinching. “I said it before, Bucky’s not dying here. If that’s what I have to do, I’ll do it.”

“A bold statement. But dimension traveling is never a simple task. Each world will be a varying experience. Whether the people are kind or immoral, whether the land is peaceful or wrecked by war, all random. People you’ve met on your world will appear under completely different circumstances, but do not assume that their personalities are the same. Technology, social climate, beliefs, all will depend on the world. Your safely is not even guaranteed. Harm, or even death, will always be an option.

“And so, I will ask you for the last time, will you agree to this?”

Steve acknowledged Natasha and Sam. They both nodded their approval. “Yes. Nothing’s changed.”

“Well then,—”

“Wait!” Wanda dashed in front of the window. “I’d like to say goodbye first.”

“Of course,” Yuuko said.

Wanda wrapped her arms around Sam. “Miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, kid,” he said, hugging her back. “I’ll cook you something when we get home.”

“We can do it together. And we haven’t seen a Red-tailed Hawk yet.”

“Or a Northern Shrike.”

Wanda let go of Sam, and turned to Natasha. “And you’ll have to coach me on how to hold my liquor even stronger.” She held out her left hand, her right still in a fist.

Natasha shook it, and grinned. “You got it. But I’m warning you, I’m a tough teacher.”

“I’ll be counting on it.”

Wanda finally went to Steve, kneeling next to him. She took his hand. “I didn’t get to finish what I was saying earlier.”

She pressed something into his palm, and folded his fingers around it. “I have a suspicion that this might help.” She gave him a gentle kiss on his cheek. “ _Behatzlacha_ ,” Wanda whispered. “The best of luck to you.”

Steve clutched the item tightly. “Thank you.”

Wanda got to her feet, and stepped away from the group. “Carry on,” she said to Yuuko.

“Sincerity and determination are the traits one needs for an endeavor such as this,” Yuuko proclaimed. “I see that the three of you clearly possess them. And so...”

The white Mokona sprang from the window (the black Mokona excitedly waved a stub of an arm goodbye). Underneath the creature came an intricate circle that hastily grew in size, along with an enormous pair of wings that sprouted from their back. Then Mokona began to open their mouth.

“... you may go!”

None of the Avengers could foresee what happened next. From Mokona’s mouth spiraled a barrage of waves, the force of which nearly knocked them over.

“What th—?”

The waves enveloped the travelers, and started to draw them toward Mokona. No, more like suck them in. Steve kept a firm hold on Bucky, not wanting him to slip away.

“Come back safely. All of you,” Wanda cried out to them over the uproar.

“We will,” Steve called to her. “Don’t you worry.”

The last thing they heard was a declaration from Yuuko, “I admit I find the similarities between you and my future travelers to be amusing. And I will wish for them the same thing I wish to you now: the best of fortune on your journey!”

With that, they were completely consumed by Mokona. Their world was gone, the space surrounding them replaced by a void of total darkness.

A warm drowsiness struck Steve, his limbs suddenly heavy. He didn’t fight it, letting it overtake him, putting his trust in Yuuko’s magic.

Through it all, even as he succumbed to sleep, Steve’s thoughts still lingered, “I’ll save him. Whatever it costs. If he has to forget me, so be it. Bucky has always been the most important person in my life.

“I’ll definitely...”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll be using the gender neutral “they” pronoun when referring to Mokona (they/them/their). Really didn’t want to use “she”, and was considering “it”, but I think this is the right path to go.
> 
> Bucky would have several times more memories than Sakura to search for, so the need to have more people pay for the one wish would be reasonable. 
> 
> Those weren’t originally Sam’s dog tags, if you hadn’t guessed. 
> 
> And, nope, there won’t be some miracle loophole down the line to get the memories of Steve back. Those are gone for good. :P
> 
> Edit at the end is by [me](https://pandasubaru.tumblr.com/post/154028486480/and-soyou-may-go.com)


	4. First Night Abroad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group arrives in the first world, and are greeted by a familiar face.

Steve could have almost believed that everything in Bucharest (Bucky’s curse, Yuuko, the dimension traveling deal) was just a bad dream.

He woke staring at a plain ceiling. He could tell his shield was still strapped to him by the hard metallic curve against his back. The ground beneath him was carpeted, soft and bristled, and from above he could see the flicker and hear the sputtering sounds of a ceiling lamp trying to stay alive. _I’m still in my hotel room_ , he thought. _Sam will be coming in soon to ask about breakfast_.

The notion was disproved when Mokona leaned over him.

“Good morning! Rise and shine~!”

“Ahh!”

Steve instantly sat up, making Mokona jump backwards. Yes, this was definitely real.

Mokona started to sob. “Steve doesn’t appreciate Mokona’s wake up call!”

“Oh, you’re up.” Natasha sat across from Steve, drying her hair with a towel.

Sam was beside her, wiping his unhitched jetpack. “Good, we’re all conscious. Well, except—”

“Bucky!” Steve scanned around the room. “Where’s...”

He found Bucky lying close to him, curled up on his side, still asleep. A towel had been draped over him. Steve picked him off the floor into his arms.

“We all got drenched in that storm. There was a pile of towels here in the room when Sam and I woke up. We tried to dry you off a little,” Natasha explained.

Mokona hopped into Natasha’s lap. “Mokona helped dry you off, too! Isn’t Mokona nice?”

Whether Bucky was wet or dry wasn’t what troubled Steve. He could feel through Bucky’s clothes that his skin was freezing, and it wasn’t because of the rain. Yuuko’s warning flashed through Steve’s mind: “If he remains in this state for too long, he will die.”

He had to find Bucky’s memory, now. He had to...

“Steve. Steve.” Natasha’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Calm down. You’re gonna crush him.”

“Huh? Oh.” Indeed, Steve’s fingers were digging hard into Bucky’s shoulder. He eased his grip, and took a deep breath, clearing his head. “We can’t leave him like this. There has to be something we can do.”

“Wanda gave you a thing she said would help, didn’t she?” Sam recalled. “You see what it was?”

Steve had almost forgotten. He held up his still closed fist. “No, I didn’t.” He opened his palm.

What unfurled was, of all things, a feather. Large and white, it would have been mistaken as ordinary if not for the red star embellished in the middle.

“Is this what a memory looks like?” Steve mused.

Natasha clapped her hands. “Ah, I get it. _Krylya_ , ‘wings’, and the memories are turned into feathers. Clever fuckers.”

No sooner did she speak, the feather floated from Steve’s hand toward Bucky. The group watched, astonished, as it merged into Bucky’s chest. They waited for it to take effect.

On the surface, at least, nothing changed. Bucky didn’t stir, not even a twitch.

Steve felt Bucky’s cheek, and relief flooded him. “He’s a little warmer now,” he said with a grateful sigh. “If he hadn’t gotten that feather... It’s lucky Wanda was able to trap one.”

“Not luck, that’s _hitsuzen_ ,” Natasha noted. “Like the Witch said, ‘there is no coincidence’.”

“‘Inevitability’,” Steve finished.

Sam covered his face with his palm. “That Witch was all kinds of cryptic. You gotta wonder what kind of person plays a genie for a living.”

Mokona scurried up Sam’s arm. “You mean Yuuko? She likes to drink and hates hangovers!”

“That’s... descriptive,” Sam remarked.  

Mokona’s normally closed eyes went shifty. “Mokona wonders... Eh heh heh...”

Sam plucked the giggling Mokona off of him. “At least we know what we’re looking for. One down, ten-million to go.”

“Before we get into that, or do anything else,” Steve started, “Sam, Nat, I wanted to thank you again. With the prices you paid, it couldn’t have been easy.”

Natasha removed the towel from her head. “I knew you were dead set on making that deal, no matter what anyone could say, or what the cost to you was. You’re too damn stubborn, Steve.” She smirked. “Especially when it comes to Barnes.”

Steve was silent for a beat. “If I let something,” he gulped, “happen to him that I could have prevented, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. And it’s thanks to you both that I can help him. I’m more than indebted to you. So I won’t force you to do anything on this journey. If you think something is life threatening, feel free to turn it down. This is my mission. Put yourselves first.”

Natasha and Sam stared at Steve, then at each other.

“You heard the man, Sam. Let’s quit.”

Sam held up Mokona. “Kirby, you think you can take us back home?”

“Mokona isn’t ‘Kirby’! Mokona is ‘Mokona’!”

Steve groaned. “I’m being serious.”

“Kidding, kidding.” Natasha chuckled. “Can’t take a joke?”

“And this is me being serious,” Sam said. “If we’re going to be hunting down feathers, the question isn’t where we find them, it’s how we start looking in the first place. Doubt something this small will be painless to track.”

“Mokona knows how!” Mokona bounced from Sam’s grasp onto Steve’s knee. “Mokona could sense a big, big wave coming from Bucky’s feather! It’s so strong, that if Mokona feels it, Mokona will go like—” Mokona’s eyes widened, mouth gaping, “—this! Mekyo~!”

“Gahh!”

“That solves that,” Natasha approved.

Steve picked up Mokona. “If you sense a feather, would you let us know?”

“Yeah, no problem! Mokona will do an excellent job!”

Steve grinned at the creature. “Thank you.”

“How about from here, can you sense anything?” Sam asked.

“Uh huh!” Mokona nodded. “It’s faint, but this world has a feather! Mokona is sure of it!”

“Now that the memory-finding issue is taken care of,” Natasha said, “I think the real question we should be asking is where is ‘here’?”

The room they were sitting in appeared to be the living area of an apartment. It seemed even more spacious from the complete lack of furniture and barren walls. Next to them was a small kitchen with a counter, a string of cabinets, and a fridge. Opposite the kitchen were two doors, one open revealing a bathroom, the other closed. Directly in front of them was yet another door that presumably went to the main hallway.

“Doesn’t look like we crashed through the roof,” Sam observed, tilting his head up at the spotless ceiling, “unless the little guy can phase through matter.”

Mokona shook their head. “Nope, Mokona can’t do that. We came to this country from the outside.”

“That would infer that someone brought us inside,” Natasha concluded with a frown. “Probably the same one who left the towels.”

“But who would do that?” Steve said.

The travelers didn’t have long to reflect, as the hallway doorknob turned, and the door swung open. The man who arrived was carrying an armful of bulging paper bags. “Hey! Great, you’re all up!” He appeared to be in his forties, his hair brown, parted on the side, and thinning. He wore a black suit and tie, and a warm smile on his face. Natasha and Steve would have recognized him anywhere.

“Coulson! How?”

“Phil, what are you doing here?”

“You know me?” The man pointed to himself. “Phil Coulson is my name, but, sorry, this is the first time we’ve met.” He set the bags on the floor. “Are you talking about an alternate self of mine?”

“You know about other worlds?” Steve replied.

“Sure! That’s why I brought you guys in. I could tell right away after I heard you landing on the roof,” Coulson said. “Yuuko and I go way back. I owe her big.”

“‘Brought us in’, meaning you carried us from the roof? By yourself?” Sam asked skeptically.

Coulson scratched the back of his neck, his grin sheepish. “I’m out camping a lot, so I’m pretty strong. Now you know my name. What’s all of yours?”

“I’m Sam.”

“Call me Natasha.”

“Mokona Modoki! You can say ‘Mokona’!”

“I’m Steve.” He motioned to Bucky in his arms. “And his name is Bucky.”

“His sleep isn’t natural, is it?” Coulson said. “I’m guessing that’s the reason you’re traveling?”

“Yes. His memories were scattered to other dimensions, so we need to find them... It’s a long story.”

“Well, while you’re in this world at least, you can stay here.” Coulson smiled. He stepped behind Steve and unlatched the covering off a window. “Welcome to New York!”

The group took pause. “This is New York?” Sam asked.

He and Natasha moved closer to the window, and Steve turned his head to get a better look. Outside the apartment against the darkness of night were the lights and bright flashes of dozens of buildings, ranging from small to skyscrapers. The air was filled with the honking of cars and the faint blare of sirens passing through. Aging billboards stuck out like weeds, scattered across the city.

“Like, New York, New York?”

“No, you pronounce the ‘oo’ longer. Wait, let me write it out.” Coulson fished a notepad and pen from his pocket and quickly scribbled it down. “Here,” he said, showing them.

Their confusion only increased at the unfamiliar symbols. “Is that kanji?” Natasha asked, squinting.

“Do you not use kanji in your world?”

“We have it,” Steve told him. “Our country doesn’t typically use that system, though.”

“Mokona can understand!” Mokona leapt onto Coulson’s shoulder. “Mokona can translate any language, written or spoken.”

“That’ll come in handy.” Coulson tickled Mokona’s belly, eliciting a burst of laughter. “There’s a bunch of different dialects here in the city. Even I have a hard time figuring it out sometimes.”

Natasha sighed. “We’re probably not even speaking english, are we?”

“‘English’? Never heard of it.” Coulson put the pad and pen away.

“Putting that aside,” Sam said, “where are we exactly?”

“We’re in a vacant room in my apartment complex. I’m the landlord here.” Coulson gestured theatrically around the space. “Inherited it from my father when he passed, that and Lola. I live across the hall, so feel free to stop by.”

He sifted through one of the paper bags. “I brought over some old clothing of Melinda’s and mine. Thought you all could use a change after being soaked for so long. And the air mattresses, too.”

“‘Lola’, and ‘Melinda’?” Natasha repeated.

“Lola’s my Chevy. Melinda is my wife, love of my life,” Coulson answered, beaming. He began searching inside another bag. “Unfortunately, you won’t get to meet her. She’s out on business for a couple days... Here it is!” With some force, he tugged free a flattened airbed. “Shouldn’t have let my avatar help with the packing.”

“Did you say ‘avatar’?” Steve said. “What’s that?”

“What! You don’t know?” Coulson shook his head. “Of course not, you’re from another world. It’s just funny, it’s such a basic concept.” He cleared his throat. “Technically, I did move you guys from the roof to this room by myself, but I wasn’t alone.”

Steve blinked, and the empty spot next to Coulson became occupied. The figure cut an impressive height and muscular build, dressed in ornate red, white, and blue combat gear. In one hand was a sword, in the other was a wide shield. Half their face was hidden under a helmet, revealing only a small grin.

“This is my avatar,” Coulson said. “In this world, everybody, no exceptions, receives one. That means each of you has one, too.”

Sam glanced back and forth from Coulson’s avatar to Steve. He covered his mouth to hide his snickering. “That one looks ready for war. Is everyone’s that suited up?”

“Only kids use them for battling nowadays. And the form of each avatar varies from person to person. When you go out into the city, you can see for yourselves.”

“Hey, pop?”

A brunette girl, about twelve years old, stood in the doorway. She wore an oversized black shirt and baggy striped pajama pants. She rubbed her eyes, yawning. “Whas goin’ on? New boarders?”

“Sorry, sweetie.” Coulson flicked his hand, and in a puff of smoke his avatar vanished. “Just some visitors.”

The girl dazedly tilted her head at the travelers.

Natasha nodded. “Good evening.”

“Hey,” said Sam.

Steve waved. “Hello.”

Mokona hopped onto Steve’s head, twirling. “Hiya!”

Satisfied, the girl turned to leave with another yawn. “’Kay. Night.”

“G’night, dear. I’ll be back soon,” Coulson called after her. “That was my daughter, Daisy. Like I said, we’re across the hall.” He pulled out an airbed pump from one of the bags.

“Thank you for letting us stay,” Steve said. “If there’s anything we can do...”

“I should have some money on me,” Sam offered, “but I don’t know how good the exchange rate is from dimension to dimension.”

“It’s no trouble, really,” Coulson replied. “I’m sure you all still have a bunch of questions, and I’m curious to know what my other self is like, but it is past one on a school night. You should get some rest, and save the exploring for tomorrow.

“Bathroom’s over there with a shower, next to that is the bedroom.” Coulson pointed. “Do you need anything else tonight?”

“Booze, if you could, please,” Natasha said.

“Alcohol, any kind, I don’t care,” Sam agreed.

They looked over to Steve, who smiled. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind a glass, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit I'm not up to date with Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., but I couldn't help myself~
> 
> From here on out, I wouldn't be tagging crossover Clamp/Marvel characters. There will be way too many to list, mostly in the form of cameos.
> 
> Coulson's deal with Yuuko has something to do dimension travel, but I'm keeping that vague, ehehe.
> 
> Clamp's universal rule that the dead can't come back to life will be enforced here.


	5. A Talk Between Comrades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Natasha discuss destiny, their prices to travel, and the ones that started it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tiny bit of anti-brucenat ahead (this fic is samnat, so yeah)
> 
> Comments are appreciated, please!

For the better part of twenty minutes, Natasha had been pacing throughout the living room and fiddling with her cell phone, occasionally taking sips from a tumbler of whiskey. She glared at the phone screen. Nothing was yielding her results. Letting out a frustrated huff, she locked the screen and collapsed onto the inflated airbed. 

Coulson only had two mattresses, in a king and twin. Since the king size would be big enough for three, Natasha and Sam had allowed the sleeping Bucky to take the twin. The king airbed also proved too bulky for the tiny bedroom, so the much smaller twin and Bucky would be kept there, and the king would be left in the living room. 

Natasha had changed into a tank top and shorts for the night, silently thanking Melinda for providing her with several outfits. There were enough of Coulson’s old clothes for Sam and Steve to split for a few days as well (the timeframe she hoped it would take to find that stupid feather).

She listened to the pattering spray of the shower, and closed her eyes, slightly anxious for her turn to use it. Steve wanted to focus on getting Bucky settled in, saying he would take a shower in the morning, which led her and Sam to rock-paper-scissors over who would wash up first. Sam won the best out of five games, two to one with two ties. Steve had been in the bedroom with Bucky ever since. The fluffball Mokona had gone with him, leaving Natasha alone. 

“The fuck is taking him so long...” she muttered, crossing her legs. Partially out of boredom, partially out of annoyance, she reached for her phone again.

After another five minutes, Natasha heard the faucet’s shrill squeak and water stop running. Steam poured into the room as Sam opened the door. He was still dripping wet, clad in sweatpants, with a t-shirt around his bare shoulders. “Nat, bathroom’s free.”

“Thanks.” Natasha downed the rest of her drink. “Perfect timing. Just finished checking all my contacts.” She reached for the whiskey bottle on the kitchen counter, and refilled her glass. “I got signal, but not one response by text or call. All one-thousand two-hundred forty-three. Not one.” 

“You went through a thousand contacts?”

Natasha chucked the phone at him with a grin. “Wanna check?”

Sam caught it, giving it the once-over. “I have faith.” He set the phone down on the counter, and retrieved his own half-empty tumbler.

“To be accurate, I did get a couple answers, but not from anyone I’d ever heard of. Take-out restaurants and such.” Natasha tilted the neck of the whiskey bottle toward him. “Care for more?”

Sam held out his glass as she topped it off. “Guessing those numbers from our world got reassigned.”

Natasha sat the bottle on the floor. “‘Our world’, heh.” She swirled the liquid around her cup. “I’ll have to get used to saying that.”

A silence passed between them as Natasha stared at her drink, her brows furrowed. 

Sam took a seat beside her on the airbed. “Wanna talk?” 

Natasha kept her eyes on her glass. “About?”

“For starters, how instead of being back in America, we’re traveling who knows how long across time and space via a talking Pokémon to find an asshole’s memories that are in the form of feathers?”

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds certifiable.” 

“There has to be some force at play here. Like if we changed one thing. If you or I didn’t go to Romania at all, or if we forced that dick to come with us from the start, or if we hadn’t been in front of that shop window, none of this would have happened.” 

“Or it still would have happened, and Steve would be screwed.” 

Sam turned to her, his expression solemn. “The Witch needed two more sacrifices, and we were there. It was fate.” 

“Hitsuzen, you mean.”

“Whatever.” Sam sighed. “Do you actually believe in that?”

“No. Or at least I don’t want to,” Natasha replied. “‘If you believe everything is decided, then it is. If you believe nothing is decided, then nothing is decided’. I’d prefer the latter. I’d rather not be the type who settles with destiny.”

“That’s right, you make your own decisions. Good mindset to have.” He smiled. “To hell with what’s ahead of us.”

“Fuck the future.” 

“That’s the spirit.” Sam tapped their glasses together. “If we’re gonna be in this for the long haul, might as well enjoy it. Cheers.”

Natasha hesitated to throw back her drink as Sam did with his. “Fate... isn’t what I’m concerned with,” she admitted. “I don’t regret this decision, never will. It’s what we’ve left behind that I’m worried about.”

“Starks’s still home, and Wanda, and Mr. Robot. Thor can come back. There’s an ant guy that could probably do something.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Nat.” Gingerly, Sam rested his hand on her arm. “It’ll work out. All that hitsuzen, and shit. Who knows, with this warped dimension time, we might get home two hours after we left.”

Natasha gave him a small smile in return. “Yeah.” She gulped the rest of her whiskey. “That’s enough of that for now. Subject change.”

“Speaking of those we’ve left behind,” Sam began, “your price was from Barton, right?”

Natasha flinched at the name. “What?”

“Your necklace. Guy has an arrow thing. Kind of obvious.” Seeing how upset she was at the mention, Sam quickly added, “It’s fine if you want me to drop it.”

Natasha touched her neck. “He gave that to me when I passed for citizenship, he was so proud. He told me that with it, he’d always be with me, even if just in spirit. I’ve had that necklace on me ever since. Sentimental, huh?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” 

Natasha didn’t answer. 

“Were you two ever...” Sam stopped. “Sorry.”

Natasha shook her head. “He was married long before he met me. All he’s ever been is a precious friend, and I’m satisfied with that.”

“Because I thought you and Banner were—”

“A mistake,” she cut him off. “I wasn’t in the best of mental conditions. I was seeking something I thought I should want, when I realized I never wanted it in the first place. I didn’t love myself.”

She grabbed the whiskey bottle and emptied it into her and Sam’s cups. That was enough of that. “How about your love life? Didn’t know you were so chummy with Wanda.”

Sam wrinkled his nose. “I’ve got fifteen years on her, easily.”

“Any significant other, then? No girl or guy on your radar?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Really? What a pity.” Natasha leaned back on the airbed. “Can I ask about your price?”

Sam closed his eyes, unmoving, as if he didn’t hear her. 

“I can drop it,” Natasha said, “for another time. Or never.”

“It’s okay.” Sam took a sip of his whiskey. “Those tags weren’t mine. When I was in the fifty-eighth, I had a wingman, Riley. He died on a mission. Shot down, and there was nothing I could do.”

He paused, his hold on his glass tightening. “Went through some pretty bad PTSD after that. His family gave me his tags at the funeral. They’re a reminder that I never want to be in that position again, having to bury a friend.”

“... I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

“If you ever want to talk... I’m not the best at comforting, but I can listen at least.” 

Sam chuckled. “Got it. Subject change?”

“Subject change.” Natasha put her glass on the counter and stood, walking over to the closed bedroom door. “It’s been like a half-hour. Wanna bet they’re low-key fucking in there?”

“You’d think we would have heard them by now?”

“Let’s find out.” Natasha barged open the door. “Hey, boys—”

Her smirk changed to a look of awe. “Oh, my god. This is even better.” She waved to Sam. “Get a load of this goober.”

Sam joined her at the doorway, and he too stared with surprise at the scene. “Unbelievable.”

Bucky, in a white t-shirt, was tucked into bed on the air mattress. Steve, still in uniform and sitting at his side, had fallen asleep holding his hand. Mokona was nestled next to Bucky under the blanket, snoring gently.

“That is too cute,” Natasha said. “Even a Super Soldier can get exhausted from stressing over their husband.”

Sam nodded. “Y’know, we could just kill him right now and this whole scavenger hunt could be avoided.”

“Jesus H. Christ, Sam.” Natasha couldn’t help but snicker at his bluntness. “Pretty dark for you. Wait, which one?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Come to think of it, I was pretty shocked when I didn’t hear a comment out of you when Barnes went down. Something like his head being empty.”

Sam scoffed. “C’mon, I’m not that callous.”

“But you were thinking it.”

“Yes, I was.”

Natasha went back into the living room and took one of the spare blankets off the king airbed.

“You have to feel a little cheated,” Sam said. “We all sacrificed our ‘most precious possession’, and that asshole got off scot-free.”

“Maybe not entirely.” Natasha folded the blanket in half. “You don’t think Steve’s price was actually Barnes’?”

“How so?”

“The Witch said that for the price to be equal to the wish, each of us had to pay. You and I each gave up physical objects, and Steve’s was his ‘relationship’. Even if he’s unconscious, Barnes is still going on the journey. He would need to pay, too.”

“Ah, if all he had left to bargain with was his memories, then...”

“He ended up paying with his memories of Steve, and Steve paid the price of being forgotten. They were each other’s ‘most precious possession’.”

Natasha proceeded into the bedroom, tiptoeing around the airbed. Careful not to disturb him, she draped the blanket over Steve’s shoulders. “Idiots.”

“It’s only gonna hurt him in the end,” Sam said. “What will he do when Bucky wakes up clueless about him, or when memories of the Winter Soldier come back?”

“And Steve would nevertheless say it was worth it,” Natasha replied. “He’d go to war for him, hell, he’d start a war over him.” 

“I’d call that love.” Sam shrugged. “Or stupidity.”

“A bit of both.” Natasha leaned against the bedroom wall, her arms crossed. She watched Steve grip Bucky’s hand. “He’s a fool to go on this journey. But that’s one of the things I like about him. Then again, I’m a fool too.”

Sam joined next to her. “Guess by that logic that’d make me a fool.”

“Why?”

“Only a fool would follow him on that journey.” He lightly punched her arm. “We’ll be a bunch of idiots crossing dimensions together.”

She laughed, and punched him back. “You’re right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to have the spotlight on Sam and Nat for a chapter to give some backstory context (and because I love them).
> 
> I’m giving Sam all the pop culture and gaming references, yes.
> 
> Next chapter will really get the crossover characters a-going! Thank you for sticking around so far!
> 
> Bonus:
> 
> *The group silently sit around watching the mattresses inflate, all with whiskey glasses, all visibly and emotionally drained.*  
> Sam: ... So, anyone see any good movies lately?  
> Mokona: Ooo! Yuuko showed us one called ‘The Boy and the Beast’!  
> Sam: That so? I’ll have to check it out.  
> Mokona: Yeah! It was really fun! *bounces around* ‘It’s a whoosh, and a bang!’  
> -  
> *With the mattresses both inflated, Sam, Natasha, and Steve attempt to shove the king bed into the bedroom. Bucky is propped up against a wall with Mokona. The mattress is stuck halfway through the door.*  
> Natasha: Steve! Don’t push so hard, you’re gonna pop it! We are not sleeping on the floor!  
> Steve: Guys, I don’t think this is gonna work...  
> Natasha: It will! You just need to keep angling it.  
> Mokona: *jumping on top of mattress* Mokona wants to try!  
> Steve: ... it’s too big, it’s not gonna fit.  
> Sam: *smiles*  
> Natasha, horrified: Sam, don’t you dare.  
> Steve, confused: Huh? *suddenly gets it* Oh.  
> Natasha: Sam!  
> Sam: That’s what she said. *looks proud of himself*  
> Natasha: *pterodactyl screeches, then karate-kicks mattress*  
> *The mattress is still stuck*  
> Natasha: ... *goes to get more alcohol*


End file.
